Chiaroscuro
by Butterfly Needle
Summary: In one hand she holds safety, familiarity, and knowing she is needed; with the other she touches risk and warmth and an infectious smile. Deciding which to follow is anything but simple. :: Takaya/Chidori, Junpei/Chidori.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Persona 3 isn't mine. I'm making no profit from this story.

**Warnings:** Sex, and mention of Chidori's self-injuring tendencies.

**Chiaroscuro - chapter one**

It should be so easy, Chidori thinks, to take advantage of a boy who's clearly infatuated with her; it's not as though she cares about using others, or even about getting caught at it. Anyone stupid enough to let themselves be used deserves whatever they get, and she's never had reason to doubt that before. But she can't stop second-guessing herself now, even though she can't for the life of her figure it out - can't figure out why she turns back to look at Junpei now when she should be walking home. There's definitely some truth to his insistence that she do something about the cut on her hand. Medea can't heal her quite fast enough to make up for how she panicked and cut herself too deep.

If Strega hopes to have any luck in stopping SEES' foolish attempts to end the Dark Hour, she has to learn as much about SEES as she can. Chidori knows this, just as she knows that there's precious little information to be gained from any of the sources they would usually rely on. But knowing that she's being stupid doesn't stop her chest from hurting when she thinks of Junpei. Knowing that it's stupid to be so tongue-tied doesn't give her the words she needs to talk to him. Knowing doesn't make it any easier to bring up the Dark Hour or SEES or, really, anything at all.

It's not just her chest that hurts now; her left hand stings and burns along the neat slice her hatchet's blade left along the crease of her palm, and when her hands clench into fists, her nails are a fraction of an inch away from digging into the worst of it. _That_ pain is far more tolerable, though, and far easier to understand. Sharp things will make her bleed, make her hurt. It's simple. It makes sense.

If only everything could make so much sense.

Junpei is gone, undoubtedly back to his dorm, back to his friends. Chidori starts her walk home too, jittery and apprehensive as she picks her way through Port Island's less reputable alleyways. She clutches her sketchbook to her chest and edges around shadows, glancing back over her shoulder at the slightest noise. It's not like her to be afraid of anything, least of all the breed of idiot that hangs around Port Island's slums, but... Junpei does this to her. Junpei makes her worry, for his sake.

She's never been quite so glad to reach the apartment Strega now calls home.

Jin's on the couch with his laptop, and he jumps at the noise as she dumps her hatchet and sketchbook by the door. He glances up for a second, then does a double-take at the sight of her hand. "Shit, Chidori, what'd you _do_?" he asks - and then his mind seems to catch up with his mouth and he returns his attention to his laptop, suddenly disinterested. He's known her for more than long enough to guess that it wasn't some freak accident. "First-aid kit's in the bedroom," he grumbles over the sound of his typing. "Don't wake up Takaya."

"Good afternoon to you too, Jin."

She bites back a smile at his indignant scoff and heads for the bathroom to clean up, and then for the still-dark bedroom, where the door creaks loudly open and she can barely see a thing in the dim light from the hallway.

"You're back early." Takaya sits up in bed, a hint of motion in the gloom. Chidori fumbles blindly for the light switch and flips it up.

"Jin said you had the first-aid kit," she says instead of really responding to him, taking a few steps into the room - as far as she can go without risking tripping over something.

Takaya throws the blanket aside and gets to his feet, locating the first-aid kit atop a pile of dirty laundry and handing it to her. "Did Iori tell you anything of importance?" he asks before she can leave, and her stomach clenches unpleasantly at the mention of Junpei's name. Her chest is tight again, and she can't find the breath to speak; all she can manage is a shake of her head as she sinks down onto the end of Jin's futon. She fumbles with the latches on the first-aid kit, but her hands shake too badly for her to open it.

"I don't get it, Takaya!" she finally manages to say. Once she finds her voice she finds it hard to hold herself back. There's so much she doesn't understand about all this, and Takaya always has answers for her... "I can't ask anything of Junpei - I can barely talk to him at all! It _hurts_ to talk to him, and I don't understand... what's wrong with me, Takaya? Why does it hurt even to think about him?"

Takaya sits down next to her and takes the first-aid kit back. Out of the corner of her eye she can see him shake his head, and she ducks her head down, staring at her hands. When he takes her wounded hand in his and starts to bandage it, she stares at that, too. "Iori is just like the others. A foolish child who neither understands nor appreciates the power he has." He finishes with the bandages, but his hands don't leave hers, his hold only just a bit too tight to be casual. "What about him could you possibly find so fascinating?"

"I don't know!"

Only after she says it does she realize it's not true.

What fascinates her about Junpei is how _normal_ he is. He's never lived on the streets, he's never dug through trash cans for a meal, and he's never been so desperate for a safe place to sleep that he would blindly trust strangers claiming to be doctors. His Persona has never put its hands to his throat and tried to choke the life out of him just because he exists. He has the life she's never had and then some, and by being close to him she can almost taste it for herself.

And he'd let her get close to him. She has no doubt of that. He'd let her coax him into taking her to the movies, to Chagall Cafe, to all the places normal couples go, and it would be so simple...

"What can he give you that I cannot?" Takaya asks, and she very nearly blurts out "everything!"

"He would be my boyfriend if I asked," she snaps instead, spitefully defiant even though it would be much, much smarter to keep her mouth shut.

There's a moment of silence, then, and she looks up as Takaya lets go her hand and gets to his feet. "Your _boyfriend_," he muses as he makes for the door, shaking his head in disappointment. "No good will come from this, Chidori. Iori may fascinate you now, but he cannot provide for you - or care for you - as well as I can. Surely you understand how much I have done for you over the years?"

Oh, she understands - Chidori knows perfectly well that Takaya is the reason she and Jin are people, still, and not Shadows. It's Takaya's willpower, Takaya's strength, that keeps the three of them alive and... perhaps not _well_, but alive nonetheless, and it's true that she wants for very little because of him. She has a roof over her head, food in her stomach, and the pills that keep Medea quiet; she has art supplies, makeup, ribbons and lace and frills. When it comes to physical things, Takaya truly does provide for her.

Takaya's provided everything for her, for as long as she cares to remember, and she wants badly for things to stay that way - so badly that it hurts and she feels a sudden prickling in her eyes that threatens tears. Junpei might be fascinating and kind and so very unlike Takaya in a million different ways, but he is _different_ and that frightens her. She likes things the way they are, or at least she always has.

But there are other things she wants, too, things she can't so easily reach out and touch or even put a name to to ask for them.

No matter how conflicted she is, and no matter how right Takaya is, she knows for certain that she doesn't at all like being talked down to. "Is that so?" she asks, and the words come out sharp as a knife, a blatant challenge. She stands and crosses the room to stand in front of him, glaring up into the bright gold of his eyes.

It's so hard to place words to the ache in her chest, the knot in her stomach, the fluttery feeling she gets when Junpei smiles at her. Harder still is isolating those things and explaining them to someone else, especially while that someone watches and waits with poorly-veiled impatience for her to compose herself. The anger Takaya's words caused dies down to embers as she struggles, and she looks away from him. "I want..." she starts, then falters, more unsure of herself than she's been in a very long while.

Maybe it would be better to stop, better to leave, better to pretend that this argument never started. She's never known Takaya to hold a grudge against her; if she just walks away, everything will be normal again - at least, until she next sees Junpei, and then what? She likes things the way they are, but they won't stay this way - she can feel it. Something will change soon, whether by her hand or Junpei's.

She moves closer still, her skirt brushing against Takaya's legs. "I want," she tries again, and this time when she stops, with a little shake of her head, it's not out of uncertainty. Now she's just being picky with her words, trying to find the perfect ones to express exactly what she means. This is more than something she wants. It's something that she craves, something she _needs_, a final effort to set things right and orderly again. Takaya has been everything she needs for so long that she's forgotten what it's like to feel anything but annoyed disinterest towards anyone else, and if he can give her closeness, too...

"Be with me," she finally says, meeting his eyes once more. "If you can give me everything - if you can _promise_ me everything, then be with me!"

Those words aren't right either, but Takaya seems to understand. He laughs, shaking his head in amusement, but there's no hostility in his expression - and then he pulls her close against him so that her chest is against his, her skirt crushed between them. She rests her head against his shoulder and his skin feels cold against her cheek; but then, Jin and Takaya always feel cold to her, when she touches them to wash away the injuries the Dark Hour inflicts all too often. She thinks others would feel cold, too, if she ever had any occasion to touch other people.

Junpei wouldn't, though, would he? Medea tells her things, little secrets whispered into her ear, and Chidori knows as surely as she knows that the sky is blue that Junpei's Persona is strong in fire just like hers. Junpei would be nice and warm - but she doesn't want to think about that now. She _doesn't_...

Takaya plays with her hair, combing it with his fingers and knocking her headdress askew in the process, and now she's the one laughing just a little. It brings back memories, if she thinks hard enough, and for a moment she _lets_ herself remember: white rooms that smelled too sharply clean; scientists, needles, and drugs; the three of them, her and Jin and Takaya, comforting each other because there was no one else. They aren't pleasant memories, but she's too detached from them for them to hurt much. Now they only serve to make this feel familiar, and to make her feel almost safe in Takaya's arms.

"Chidori, Chidori..." Takaya sighs. "Tell me, what would truly make you happy? Some of us," he adds, and Chidori lifts her head in time to see his wry smirk, "cannot read minds."

She can't read minds either, not unless they want to be read - Medea lets her communicate with the guys, yes, but it's more like a different way of speaking than like any sort of mind-reading. Telepathy, like many things, is not so glamorous outside of works of fiction. But this isn't quite the time to argue semantics, and she makes herself focus on Takaya's question.

Forgetting all about Junpei would make her happy, but she has to settle for something a little more _possible_. "Give me what he could. Be close to me," she says, because she can't quite come out and say _have sex with me_, and not because she's too shy to say the words. Sex isn't what she wants from Junpei, but what she does want, or thinks she wants, seems no more possible than erasing him from her mind entirely. Takaya is not the kind of guy to fuss over her and make her feel special, to take her places and buy her things and be the rest of the world's idea of normal.

Even what she settles on asking for is an awful lot to demand, and she doesn't have the highest of expectations, but is there any harm in asking? Either she is pleasantly surprised by his success, or he fails and she is justified in thinking that there are some things Takaya simply can't do. She's not sure which possibility she favors. Pure stubbornness makes her want to be right, but if being wrong would mean that things go back to what Strega calls normal...

"Such a demanding child..." Takaya's voice is quiet, close to her ear, and there's nothing in it to give the words any bite. They still sting at Chidori's pride, but she bites her tongue - she is, after all, being quite demanding.

Though she doubts that Takaya would notice if she did say something. She can feel his fingers running along her back and she moves to help him, brushing her hair over her shoulder to find and undo the fastenings of her dress. The dress slides down and the cold air makes her shiver as it hits her overheated skin, and she hugs her arms to her chest more for warmth than modesty as she steps out of the dress now pooled around her ankles.

There's no cause for modesty, not yet. It isn't like she's _naked_, still in her bra and petticoat and stockings, and while Takaya is looking at her his attention is focused on her face, not her body. She turns away from him to sit on his futon, pulling off her shoes and anklets so they won't get in the way, and he comes to sit next to her but doesn't so much as touch her.

Only once she's set aside her footwear (and her headdress, too, and her choker, because she doesn't want anything getting crushed and ruined) does he lean towards her, and it's by accident that she turns away right as he moves to kiss her so that the kiss lands at the corner of her mouth. His stubble scrapes across her face as she pulls away and she frowns, irritated by the discomfort of it, and shakes her head to dissuade him from trying again; she's never been one to believe in second chances. A part of her points out that she'll never be able to kiss Junpei if she can't stand this, because he has that silly little goatee, doesn't he, and he's probably ridiculously proud of it, too - but she shoves that thought away and looks up at Takaya, waiting. Waiting for him to prove himself.

Things start moving faster, then, as though he senses her thoughts despite his claims to the contrary. His fingers are cold as they brush down her sides, dipping into the hollows between too-prominent ribs - she's all skin and bone just like him, and probably for many of the same reasons. Goosebumps race up her bare arms and she shivers from the chill of his touch, but doesn't pull away. Those cold fingers are even colder as they creep up under her petticoat, over the tops of her stockings, over her hips as he pulls down her panties, and even now she can't stop thinking so much. Junpei wouldn't be so quick, so sure of himself, Junpei wouldn't - _oh_...

"Again," she whispers - pleads - and Takaya obliges, somehow knowing how to touch _just _the right place to make her press up into his touch and bite down on the inside of her lip to hold back a moan; the walls are paper-thin, and if Jin hears them from the living room there will be hell to pay. Whatever petty argument he's caught up in might well hold his attention for hours, but unexplained noises won't escape his notice for long.

Takaya eventually pulls his hand away, and when he does a little displeased whine escapes Chidori's lips as she scowls up at him and tries to find the breath to demand an explanation. When he reaches for his belt she catches on, though, and even props herself up on one elbow, reaching towards him as he kicks off his jeans and curling her fingers around his cock.

Her teammates can coax her into being fair every now and again - and it helps that he's not so cold there.

She starts _thinking_ again as she touches him, as she watches and feels the way he responds to her touch. Would Junpei be this quiet, this still? Would he feel the same, or different; would he fit into her hand so well, and grab her wrist, like Takaya does, to stop her instead of telling her that enough is enough?

"Lie back," he urges, quietly, his hand still tight around her wrist as she does as she's told. Would Junpei hold onto her so tightly, his eyes burning with something that she can't identify? Definitely not, Chidori thinks, and that makes all this pointless, but she lets it continue. Set on edge by Takaya's intensity, she stares up at the ceiling to avoid his eyes as he moves atop her and, without warning, _pushes_ into her.

There's nothing gentle or loving about this, about the silence or the way he's almost too rough when he starts to please her with his fingers again. But his cold skin stops bothering her quite so much - or maybe it warms from her, because she feels so flushed and hot and... and it's almost _nice_, despite everything. Not what she wants, and not enough to make her forget that, but... nice.

They both manage to be quiet for a while, but she can hear his breath catch as he comes. He leans down to kiss her again when she follows suit minutes later, swallowing up her breathless little moans.

Junpei _would_ lie with her, after. Maybe he would even pet her hair, the way Takaya does - but that one similarity is worse than all the differences. She's never wanted something that Takaya couldn't give, and now that she does she can't stand the pathetic little show of kindness, like a mockery of what she really wants - she shoves him away and curls up on her side, as far away from him as she can manage even though that leaves her pressed right up against the wall. The want is only stronger now that she can imagine what it might be like, and it _hurts_ deep in her chest, a miserable ache that Medea's power can't even hope to touch.

"Leave me alone," she whispers fiercely, and the bedding rustles softly as Takaya stands. He pulls the blanket up over her, even grabs another from Jin's futon to make sure she's warm enough, and then, after cleaning himself up and getting dressed, he leaves. Through the door she can hear him talking to Jin, but she doesn't care enough to pay attention to the words.

She clenches her injured hand into a fist, nails digging in until the physical pain rivals the pain in her heart, and she falls asleep that way - cursing Junpei, cursing Takaya, and cursing herself for being so spoiled as to want something she knows she cannot have.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** Persona 3 isn't mine. I'm making no profit from this story.

**Warnings:** Violence, and mention of Chidori's self-injuring tendencies. Also there are needles. -shudder-

**Chiaroscuro - chapter two**

The first time Chidori loses control of Medea is also the only time it's intentional - if not on her part, at least on _someone's_.

Even in the days after it happened her memories were foggy, cloaked in drugs and sleep deprivation and fear. All she remembers now is whispering Medea's name for the first time, and watching angry fire obliterate masked pools of Shadow-stuff.

It's the aftermath that she remembers most clearly, waking in an uncomfortable bed with her head aching and something burning, restless, in the back of her mind. A man with long hair and glasses gave her pills to take, and slipped a few pieces of candy into her hand (a reward, she supposes now, for not going utterly insane upon Medea's awakening). The candy was nice, but she can't say the same of the man's jokes, which grew increasingly less funny until she lost her temper and threw her pillow at him.

She never does come to understand why Jin and Takaya put so much stock in the research Ikutsuki left behind, when even then he seemed a few Arcana short of a full deck.

* * *

The second time couldn't be more different.

The Kirijo Group is out of the picture and the three of them are on their own - two wary, jaded children and their savior, all of them struggling to fill in the holes between what few things the scientists bothered to tell them. Not even Takaya has all the answers, but at least he admits it like the scientists never did.

Chidori doesn't pretend to know the details of how Jin gets them hotel reservations with only a stolen laptop and other people's wi-fi, but she knows she likes the results - and how easy it is to take what they need during the Dark Hour, when the storekeepers are coffins and the security systems are dead and silent. Warm, soft beds, real baths instead of hasty cold showers, food that doesn't taste as bland and sterile as the Kirijo labs... for someone who's never known what it's like to have enough of anything, it almost seems like too much.

Jin even finds a way to get them more of those pills, those suppressants, that the Kirijo scientists were so insistent they take; the suppressants that control their Personas, because if the scientists are to be believed Hypnos and Moros and Medea are cold-blooded killers only waiting for a chance to strike. This makes no sense to Chidori, for Medea is her friend, not her enemy! Medea is red and gold and warmth in the back of her mind, and Medea is strength and healing, washing away not just the new wounds she makes on her hands, but the old scars as well. Why would her closest friend, who fills her with fire and with _life_, want to take that life away from her?

And yet the lack of sense this makes is almost tolerable - but the suppressants themselves are anything but.

They're not so bad at first, though maybe it's just the giddy rush from being _free_ that makes them seem like nothing by comparison. They're as bitter as anything Chidori's ever tasted and they make her sick if she doesn't eat beforehand, but she learns not to take them without food, and to put them as far back on her tongue as she can so as not to taste them. All three of them learn, and adapt, and forget what it was like to be normal - it's the only alternative to losing their minds. Takaya is careful to remind them of that.

But far more convincing than Takaya is the voice that speaks in the back of her mind. When Medea speaks, she uses more than words, and Chidori can _feel_ the fluctuating warmth and color of her moods and read them in a way she can read no one else. Medea doesn't lie to her - doesn't ever say things she doesn't mean.

And so when Medea scoffs at Takaya's false reassurances and offers a little advice of her own, when she whispers that the suppressants are worse than useless and that her mistress would be best served by not taking them... Chidori listens.

There's not much privacy to be found in cramped hotel rooms, but Chidori and the guys give each other what they can, and it's not as hard as it might seem to escape their notice. They have ignoring each other down to a science, and to get away with something as small as not taking a few pills she doesn't even have to be sneaky.

She doesn't take the pills and hide them in her mouth, like she tried doing in the laboratories; doesn't flush them down the toilet, or throw them in the trash. They're expensive, hard to get, and Chidori knows better than to throw away money and effort even if they've been put into something useless. Takaya and Jin won't be going through bottles and counting pills unless they're desperate, and they have things too well organized for that. She won't get caught.

She isn't caught. And for a few days she actually feels _alive_.

The sickness leaves her, replaced with Medea's fire and liquid gold running in her veins. Everything is sharper, clearer - she can _feel_ the sun on her face, the breeze in her hair, the lines her pencil presses into the rough pages of her sketchbook. When her partners take her out during the Dark Hour to carry out some schoolgirl's petty wish for revenge, she _feels_ Medea so restless and powerful inside her skull; the icy cold of her Evoker pressed against her chin; the heat that radiates from Strega's target as Agi strikes and he is consumed by flames. It's different than killing Shadows, _better_, and she's not sure if it's Medea's laughter or her own that fills her ears. Maybe it's both.

They go to Tartarus the next night, and she finds that when Medea is herself the Persona takes true joy in killing. Chidori doesn't sit on the stairs and do backup from the lobby, as she sometimes does, nor does she hang back to scan and heal. She fights alongside her partners and hacks to bits with her hatchet whatever doesn't fall to fire. High on adrenaline, she loses all track of how many floors they've climbed, and when Jin grabs her by the arm to get her attention she very nearly orders Medea to attack him.

Back at the hotel she feels feverish and unsteady, physically exhausted but mind racing - Medea hasn't had enough, Medea still wants to fight and burn and _kill_ and she isn't terribly picky as to what she kills, either. Chidori sets her Evoker carefully out of reach on the nightstand before slipping out of her dress and collapsing into bed.

She wakes up a few hours later because it's suddenly much too hard to breathe.

There's a long, sleepy moment where she's not sure what's happening, where everything is dreamlike and fuzzy at the edges. Her whole body tingles with power and heat, focused at her throat where there's a sickening pressure that feels hot enough to burn... but it's the lack of air in her lungs that gets her to open her eyes - and see Medea staring down at her, hands wrapped tight around her throat.

Choking her.

Burning her.

Medea is trying to kill her.

"Medea... Medea, _stop_..." She wants to scream, but she barely has the breath to choke out a desperate plea. Without thinking she reaches to grab at the hands around her neck, trying to loosen the Persona's grip even the tiniest bit, but though she pulls as hard as she can Medea refuses to budge.

"Stop! Medea, p-_please_...!" Her struggles do nothing, and her order is not obeyed; she has no control over her Persona now, and it's terrifying. Medea is her friend, her _best_ friend, why is she - why would she _ever_ - why is this happening? _Why_!

There's movement and voices beside her, and she holds tighter to Medea's wrists as though she can somehow keep her from turning on Takaya and Jin. Funny how she's only so loyal when she can't think about it, or about anything, because the hands at her throat press tighter by the second and she can't take even the smallest gasping breaths anymore. No more air. The heaviness in her chest hurts worse than anything else.

An ice-cold hand touches her cheek as her eyes flutter closed, but she doesn't have attention to spare for it, or for the sharp pinch at her neck that barely registers past everything else...

...until the drugs kick in and the pressure on her throat is gone, and a familiar voice whispers in her ear, "Breathe."

Only once she has obeyed, first with desperate little gasps and then, finally, with true, deep breaths that fill her lungs, does Chidori open her eyes to see Takaya sitting on the bed next to her with the empty syringe in his hand. Medea is gone, back to her place in the back of Chidori's mind where she belongs - though she didn't take the memory of her hatred with her, and that is all Chidori can think of. She doesn't know what to say or do, for nobody has ever betrayed her trust before. There are precious few people she's ever allowed close enough to have a chance (only three, in fact, and the two not in her head are right in this room), and no one she's let as close as Medea.

"I..." Propping herself up on one arm, and then sitting up fully, takes more effort than it should; perhaps because she's shivering violently, the drugs and the cold air on her bare arms teaming up to make her entire body shudder. "Takaya, I..." She feels as though she should apologize - for waking him up? For disobeying him? For nearly dying? She isn't sure, but the words won't come, at any rate. "Medea, she... she tried..."

"Shh," Takaya soothes quietly, close to her ear. He leans across her to set the syringe on the bedside table, then takes a blanket, wraps it around her shoulders, and pulls her gently into his lap. On the other side of the bed Jin swears under his breath as he stumbles in the dark, but manages to find and turn on the light.

Chidori isn't used to being held, and at first she almost freezes in Takaya's arms, tense and still save for the trembling she can't control. For a moment her mind races with fearful possibilities, fuled by the knowledge that Takaya doesn't need an Evoker to summon Hypnos and that her own healing abilities can't keep up with the damage a Persona can deal, but it's those thoughts that lead to something calmer. Takaya _needs_ her and her healing, and would only suffer from losing her.

Too worn-out to question that, she relaxes against his chest. "She _betrayed _me," she whispers, because that's what hurts the most. Dying doesn't scare her, injury is only temporary, and physical pain is nothing more than an annoyance, but this is something deeper that she can't just brush away. Tears prickle at her eyes and trickle down her cheeks, and in a heartbeat she's sobbing into Takaya's shoulder. She's hurting, and exhausted; right now she needs the comfort of Takaya's arms around her, his fingers in her hair.

"It's Kirijo's fault," she whispers when the worst of the tears have stopped. "It's them she's angry with, isn't it? She doesn't... she can't hate me, she can't..."

Takaya touches her cheek, brushing back hair that's stuck to her face with tears, and she lifts her head to look at him. "She hates those who roused her from her slumber against her will," he says. "Without the suppressants her rage consumes her, and she is blinded to the fact that you are blameless." He sighs, his fingers lingering against her temple. "I know they make you ill, child. They make us all ill. But you _must _take them if you wish to remain... friends, with Medea."

Knowing that there's truth in his words doesn't make her hate that truth any less. "It's not fair," she complains, shifting a little to wipe at her eyes.

Takaya chuckles, though not unkindly, and fondly ruffles her hair. "Nothing in life is fair, princess." He grows more serious as he continues; "The Kirijo Group did not care about being 'fair'. They only cared about _results_. But we can get back at them - do you know how?"

Chidori shakes her head.

"We will_ survive_. We will not let their experiments, their drugs, kill us. We will live to see them fall without ever finding what they seek. What could be more perfect?"

There is a sort of poetic justice to it that appeals to Chidori, and she wipes the last of the tears from her eyes. Maybe in the morning she'll regret being so easily pacified, but right now she's in no state to put up a decent argument; she doesn't much feel like moving, and certainly not like freeing herself from Takaya's arms, and when she opens her mouth all that comes out is a yawn.

Glaring at Takaya when he dares to laugh only seems to amuse him further. "We all need some more sleep, I think," he muses, though he makes no move to let go of her waist even as he stretches out beside her. Apparently she'll be sleeping right here tonight. "Jin! Turn out the light, would you?"

She curls up beside Takaya as the room goes dark, head resting against his chest. Jin crawls into bed on her other side and pulls the covers over the three of them, and it's sort of nice, being so close, even if it isn't quite what she's used to. It feels... safe, and right now she needs that.

"Chidori?" Jin whispers from behind her.

"Yes...?"

"Don't ever do that again." There's genuine concern in his voice, and she can almost see his expression in her mind, the worried frown usually reserved for Takaya. "I ain't fuckin' kidding, okay?"

"All right," she agrees, with a sleepy little laugh. She'll behave from now on, now that she knows what's at stake if she doesn't - though she doesn't truly regret learning that lesson the hard way. Taking to heart everything the Kirijo scientists told her will get her nowhere, even if there is a single grain of truth amongst the falsehoods.

It doesn't take long for her to fall asleep, soothed by the steady rise and fall of Takaya's chest and the weight of Jin's leg thrown carelessly across hers. As she drifts off she can feel a tingling warmth against her neck, like hot water washing away the bruises; she smiles into the darkness and closes her eyes, reassured. Medea still watches over her. Her partners will protect her. The Kirijo Group will get what they deserve.

Her sleep is warm and dreamless.

* * *

And the third time...

SEES has reduced Chidori's world to little more than a white bed in a cold room, and she can't even see the real world through the window, for when she's in bed the angle isn't right for her to see anything but the sky through the sheer curtains. They've taken almost everything she owns, even her freedom, and the sketchbook they let her keep is a small comfort when she would kill any and all of them just to get her Evoker back.

They lock her in at midnight so she can't go wandering during the Dark Hour, and without her Evoker she can't do a thing about it. Not that she doesn't try her very hardest, the first night - but without Medea to burn down the door or contact her partners for help there's nothing she can do. The nurse who tends to her when time unfreezes scolds her for bruising and bloodying her hands, and she knows she deserves every word of it, for no sane girl would beat at the door with her bare fists just for a chance to escape.

But she is not sane - perhaps not at all, and certainly not here. Any trace of sanity the Kirijo Group left her with is yet another thing SEES has stolen.

And yet with all they take, they give her something as well. For were it not for SEES she never would have met Junpei, who despite being her enemy - despite being used, threatened, hurt, so many things she would never forgive were she in his place - doesn't seem to hate her, and when Junpei steps into the cold hospital room he seems to fill it with his warmth.

When Junpei is around, Chidori doesn't feel quite so crazy. She doesn't know how to say as much, but Junpei doesn't seem discouraged by her silence; he talks enough for both of them when he comes, and she watches, and listens, and thinks that mere pencil isn't enough to capture him in the pages of her sketchbook. His presence begs for colors.

He doesn't bring her colors, but what he does bring her after a few days (three? Four? She doesn't bother keeping track of time, because she knows, deep down, that without her suppressants each day brings her closer to disaster) is almost as good and every bit as thoughtful.

"C'mon, cheer up... I brought you a new sketchbook!" He's grinning ear to ear as he sits down in the chair beside her bed, holding up a sketchbook identical to the one in her hands. The right brand, the right type of paper... he's more observant than she would have given him credit for, and on any other day she might have offered him a smile. But today her mind is restless and uneasy, filled with thoughts of fire and death, and not even Junpei can coax cheerfulness from her.

That doesn't stop him from trying. He's deep in a retelling of how one of his friends _totally _saved his ass in English class when Chidori feels the barricades in her mind shatter like broken glass, letting loose a flood of hot power and fury that immediately takes a familiar form. There's a moment where only she can see Medea above her, and her lips work soundlessly as she frantically searches for words to plead with her - _Medea, I'm so sorry, I know you're angry it's not my fault don't hurt me don't hurt me _please_...!_

Only when Medea's hands close tight around her throat does she manage to make a sound, and by then it's too late. She's faintly aware of Junpei jumping at her strangled gasp, of yelling and footsteps, and then everything is muffled by the roar of blood rushing in her ears. Medea squeezes tighter, tighter, so tight that stars burst at the edges of Chidori's vision, and she can't breathe can't see can't think -

A pinprick of pain faintly registers in her mind, and only a moment later Medea is gone.

"Relax," drawls a low voice as she struggles to catch her breath, "it happens," and the first thing Chidori feels past the panic is _anger_, almost as hot as Medea's, towards that _bastard_ Aragaki. Strega has given him far more than he deserves for so long, and this is how he repays them - by jumping in at the last second to play hero, instead of preventing this from happening? She entertains the thought of getting up and hitting him until he leaves the room, and only then does her attention turn to the boy standing beside her bed.

Junpei isn't smiling anymore.

"I..." The room feels even colder than ever, and she hugs her arms to her chest, shivering. Junpei deserves a better explanation than Aragaki gave, but she can't find the words to begin. "I... Junpei?"

"Th-thank God...!" He sounds so _terrified_, and she can't understand it. Does he care about her so much that he can't imagine being without her? It's a foreign concept to Chidori, who is absolutely sure she doesn't feel like that about anyone. No matter what happens, life goes on. People grieve, and then move on - it's foolish to think anyone is important enough to stop life in its tracks.

"Why do you look so scared? Death is nothing to be afraid of..." She wants to see him smile again, but those words prove to be the wrong ones as soon as they leave her lips. If anything, Junpei only looks more horrified.

She listens as he has his say, fascinated by a point of view she's never considered. Junpei doesn't want her to die, and for the most selfish reasons... but those reasons move her, and she can't help but smile as he runs out of words. A bit of selfishness can be forgiven, when her reasons for wanting him around are no less so.

"You're so weird, Junpei..." She laughs, and that, finally, makes him smile. He sinks down into the chair by her bed, then springs back to his feet, concern written all over his face.

"You're shivering - are you cold? Here, let me -" He pulls one of the blankets from her lap and tucks it awkwardly around her shoulders, then draws away, almost as though he's afraid to touch her for too long. Which would be a valid concern, for Chidori doesn't much care to be touched by most people, but right now the last thing she wants is for Junpei to be so nervous around her. Right now, all she wants is someone to hold her, to soothe away the trembling and the fear until she's calm enough to rest.

She reaches out and catches hold of his wrist, tugs him towards her - his skin is wonderfully, blessedly warm beneath her fingers, and she never wants to let go. Instead of sitting beside her, though, Junpei bites his lip like she's hurting him. "Chidori..."

"Stay with me, Junpei?" It comes out like a question, even though she meant it as a demand. Maybe that's what gives him the strength to pull away, his fingers sliding right through hers as he takes a step back from the bed.

"I - I can't, Chidori. Senpai would kill me, and..." He keeps on babbling, making excuses even as he walks to the door, but Chidori doesn't hear the words. All she hears is that she's not important enough to him to make him stay, and that makes her chest ache like she's being choked all over again. If what his friends think of him is so much more important than what she needs, why would he spend any time with her at all? Why does he come here when he isn't supposed to, but leave for that very reason?

Why does any of this matter to her?

She pulls the blanket close around her shoulders and curls up on her side, the pillow cool against her flushed face. The hospital bed has never felt so empty before as it does now, with no one here to comfort her when she needs it most. No Takaya to hold her, like he always has when she's truly needed him to. No Junpei to bring warmth and color to her dreams.

Eventually she falls asleep, but not before the pillow is wet with her tears. She dreams of a tall figure with his back to her, full of excuses and empty words, a SEES armband stretched out like caution tape to keep him from her.

**Disclaimer:** Persona 3 isn't mine. I'm making no profit from this story.

**Warnings:** Sex, and mention of Chidori's self-injuring tendencies.

**Chiaroscuro - chapter one**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** Persona 3 isn't mine. I'm making no profit from this story.

**Warnings:** Violence, and discussion of death in a potentially triggering light.

**Chiaroscuro - chapter three**

Chidori has been a prisoner for two months, two weeks, and almost two days, but she doesn't need exact numbers to know that it's been entirely _too long_.

Too long without Medea's presence as anything more than a whisper in her mind, or those awful, burning hands at her throat. Too long without Takaya and Jin, who aren't dead, who _can't_ be dead, no matter what SEES tells her. She would _know_ if they were dead, she's certain of it.

Too long without Junpei; too long since she shoved him away, hurting too much to think of anything but making it _stop _- yes, she knows full well that it's her fault Junpei no longer visits. She told him not to, clear as day, and that she didn't mean it is no one's fault but her own. That she didn't realize that the pain would linger far longer than Junpei's presence is only proof that he has changed her, for now it seems like the most obvious thing in the world.

But it's too late to take back her words. All she can do is regret them, and spend countless hours trying to capture Junpei's warmth in black and white.

It's not like there's anything else to do. SEES has given up on interrogating her, and the hospital staff are busy with their other patients, their real patients. Their medicine can't heal Chidori's sickness and their orders won't allow them to let her go, so when she's behaving herself they act as though she isn't there; they give her food and pills, but when those needs are filled they seem to have no interest in interrupting her drawing.

She'll have to do that to herself before too long; her pencil's gone intolerably dull, past the point where she can scrape it against the bedrail or her fingernails to give it a hint of an edge, and she's not allowed a sharpener. Lines that are sharp in her head come out fat and fuzzy on paper. The edge of a flower petal blends into the curve of a shoulder as Chidori rubs her fingers along it, tinting her fingertips gray.

"What am I drawing...?" she whispers aloud, but the smudged-pencil Junpei doesn't answer her. Before, no one but her could make sense of her drawings; now, she thinks she might be the only one who doesn't understand. Her drawings have always been... different - "fucked up", Jin calls them, and Takaya always shakes his head but never argues - but now Junpei spills out of her pencil photo-perfect and she can't for the life of her understand why...

The lights flicker and go dark, and she looks up, startled.

It's not midnight yet, she's certain - the Dark Hour feels different, innately _wrong_ in the pit of her stomach. Besides, there's an alarm sounding somewhere outside her room, loud and unmistakably electronic; whatever's going on, it isn't something as predictable as the time ticking past midnight. She sits still and tense in the darkness, barely hearing the sound of approaching footsteps over the frightened pounding of her heart and Medea's fury at being unable to protect her.

The door slides open.

"It has been a while..." That voice is silk-smooth and impossibly familiar, and a demand for an explanation dies unspoken on Chidori's lips. Takaya is the last person she expected to see, and his presence and Jin's bring with them a flood of questions. Why _tonight_? Why not two months and some weeks ago? Has SEES guarded her that closely... or are her partners every bit as unfaithful as SEES would have her believe?

"I am glad to see you once again," Takaya says. "Jin, the instruments, if you would?"

Jin seems uneasy, brows furrowed in concentration behind his glasses, but he still obeys Takaya without question. He swings his briefcase onto the foot of the bed and pulls out Chidori's hatchet and Evoker, then retreats to keep a nervous eye on the door. They're risking quite a lot to be here, no doubt, and she can't blame Jin for being apprehensive. As horrible as her time in the hospital has been, she's sure that SEES would come up with something even more unpleasant were they to capture Takaya and Jin.

"I trust you do not need to be restrained?"

Two and a half months ago her answer would have been simple, an adamant "no"; the thought of needing to be dragged from this place by force would have been laughable. But that answer doesn't come so easily to her now, and she stares down at her lap, at Junpei's face grinning up from her sketchbook. "Takaya..." she starts, then realizes that she has nothing else to say. "No" isn't right, but neither is "yes", and she knows better than to tell him "I don't know".

No answer at all isn't right either, and she can see the impatience flash across his face in the split-second before he regains control. "Surely you understand..." He steps closer to the bed, close enough to rest his hand against the bedrail. "There is nowhere for you to go. You _must_ come with us."

That's not true, is it? Junpei would take her in, if she asked him to. He would defy his teammates for her sake - but what sort of life would that give her? A life of running from her teammates, depriving them of the things only she can provide? Even in the dark she can see the marks her absence has left on them; bold bruises against Takaya's pale skin, a scrape along Jin's cheek. Nothing life-threatening, but her hands still itch with the urge to reach out and _heal_, and her mind races with guilt.

"Death is not to be feared." Takaya's voice is softer now, and he puts his hand atop hers. "You need only fear -"

She jerks her hand away and cuts him off. "Yes, I know." Does Takaya really think she needs to be lectured like an unruly child? She hasn't been away from him long enough to have forgotten everything he's told her. The only difference between now and two months ago is that she's not at all sure how much she can believe; her mind remembers everything he's told her, but her heart screams that none of it is true.

Takaya, thankfully, is not privy to her inner struggles. "Excellent," he purrs, patting her hand again before turning to leave. He and Jin take up positions just outside the door, and Chidori slips out of bed to search the room for the bags that hold her clothes. The act of putting on familiar clothes and taking up familiar weapons makes her feel a little bit more like herself, but all it takes is a single glance to her sketchbook to be knocked back into uncertainty. She spares a moment to flip through the pages before shutting it and leaving it on the bed.

_It's all_ his _fault_, she thinks. Nothing's gone right since she met Junpei, and everything he's done has caused her pain - and instead of being able to hate him properly, she's somehow become afraid of anything that might take her from him for good. Afraid of leaving the hospital. Afraid of returning to her life with Takaya and Jin. Afraid of dying.

"Hey," Jin calls from the hallway, "hurry up, Chidori!"

After a last glance at the room she's leaving behind, she steps out to join Takaya and Jin. The hallway is void of people but filled with dark shadows, the floor scattered in places with broken glass. Somewhere in the distance an alarm still sounds. Jin's hand moves towards hers as though to grab it, but at the last second he seems to think better of it; with a shake of his head and a sigh he makes for a door at the end of the hallway, and Chidori follows without a word.

Spending so much time in bed has taken its toll on more than just her mind. It's difficult for her to keep up with Jin's fast pace as he leads her and Takaya down too many flights of stairs, and understanding the hurry doesn't make it any easier. She's out of breath in minutes, her legs aching as though they might give out at any second, and on the fourth landing she collapses gracelessly to her knees. Already a few steps down the next flight, Jin pauses, looking back to meet Takaya's eyes over her head.

"Two more floors." Takaya crouches down beside her as though they have all the time in the world. "Two more floors and you'll be free of this... _place_. Do you have the strength for that, or must Jin carry you?"

The thought of letting Jin so much as touch her is intolerable. It's hard enough to accept Takaya's hand and pull herself to her feet, and even though she's unsteady once she gets there she steps away instead of letting him support her. Touch isn't what she needs right now - not from Takaya, at least.

Just two more floors. She can find the strength for that. It takes clinging to the handrail as she walks and moving far more slowly than any of them would like, but her feet stay underneath her and her knees don't give way.

"Think of it like Tartarus," Jin offers as the near the next landing, voice raised over the clanging of their feet against the metal stairs. "The only way out is to keep going." His words echo in the narrow stairway, creepy enough to send a shiver down Chidori's spine; there might not be Shadows here, but there's something worse in store for all of them if they get caught.

"If this were... Tartarus," she shoots back, unable to resist when Jin makes it so easy, "we'd have a Traesto gem."

"Aren't you just Little Miss Literal today." But Jin doesn't sound too terribly displeased, and Chidori catches a hint of a smile before he turns his head away to check the cell phone pulled out of his pocket. Whatever it tells him makes him swear and quicken his pace, and the almost-normality is shattered. "It's almost the Dark Hour - the doors lock electronically, we'll be stuck here if we don't hurry. Come _on_, Chidori!"

This time he does grab her hand, grabs it and _pulls_, and she only just manages to keep her balance as he tugs her down the remaining stairs. Furious that he would dare order her around - like he has a _right_, after two and a half months, to act as though it's been only hours since they last saw each other! - she tries and fails to pull her hand away, then digs her nails into his palm through the fabric of his glove to force him to let go. He only holds tighter, crushing her fingers in his as they come to the bottom of the stairs and a door blocking their path.

A wave of a card pulled from Jin's pocket opens the door for them, and they step out into a parking garage as the lights cut out and the world goes dark. Chidori finally manages to yank her hand back, but all she has the energy to do is sit down with her back to the wall, inches away from a puddle of motor oil that's taken on the color of blood. She doesn't even have the energy to stay outraged. All she can do is sit, struggling to catch her breath and calm the jackhammer pounding of her heart. It's been a while since she felt so weak and helpless, and she doesn't at all like it.

"Rest a while," Takaya urges. He sits down beside her, tips his head back against the wall and closes his eyes. Jin remains standing, staring at a Transmogrified coffin a few yards away. "We have time."

It takes too long for Chidori's heartbeat to slow to something resembling normal and her breath to come more easily, and that frightens her. When she's with Takaya and Jin it's easy not to think about the future, but in the hospital it was impossible to escape phrases like "organ damage" and "untreatable" and "two years". That last one especially she tries not to think about, because the words ring false to her for a reason she can't explain. Something once known and long forgotten stirs in her mind when she thinks about dying in two years - something beyond simple fear. The way it makes her feel makes her think it's best if it _stays_ forgotten.

Right now she feels as though she'd like to sit for just about forever to avoid having to think and talk about such things, but though time is something of an abstract concept during the Dark Hour she knows she doesn't _have _forever. In an hour, more or less, hospital security will come looking for her. She'll be a prisoner again if she stays here, and she doubts SEES would be so careless as to lose her twice...

"Let's go," she says - whispers, really, because her mouth is dry and there's a lump in her throat she can barely speak past.

The walk to Strega's apartment is long, with frequent breaks, and deathly silent, and Chidori spends it lost in thought. She had forgotten what it's like to walk the streets during the Dark Hour, picking her way around coffins. She'd forgotten that she likes the world better this way. Coffins don't stare, don't gossip, don't push and shove; coffins don't _annoy_ her.

When the world comes to life again she scowls and walks as fast as she can manage, determined to get back to the apartment before some idiot can make her night even worse.

The last two months might as well not have happened for all the apartment has changed - it's still small, cluttered, _home_, and she lingers in the doorway for a moment just to let it sink in. "Home", "safe"... even though she hasn't wanted for a meal or a dry place to sleep in years, those words are still difficult for her to accept, and even more so right now. She wasn't safe in the hospital; SEES could have killed her in her sleep if they had wanted, or refused to let her have the suppressants Aragaki left for her, or so many other things that it makes her feel sick. It's almost a miracle that she escaped unharmed, and the knowledge of how lucky she was nags at her as she steps into the living room and collapses onto the sofa. With good luck comes bad, and putting her life in the hands of one invites the other to wreck havoc.

Something cool touches her hand and makes her jump; it takes a moment for her to realize that it's a glass of ice water that Takaya is holding out to her. The chain of her hatchet, wrapped loosely around her hands, clicks audibly against the glass as she takes it. It's comforting, somehow; the sound of being armed and able to protect herself. She'd almost forgotten what that felt like.

"I'm truly glad to have you with us once more," Takaya says as he sits beside her. In the warm light from a nearby lamp the bruises on his chest, angry splotches of purple and yellow and green, are far clearer than they were in her hospital room. She only takes a sip of water before setting the glass aside and reaching out to him.

"I'm sure you are," she mutters as she touches her fingertips to the largest of the bruises, but she's not angry or even annoyed that the guys can't keep themselves in one piece without her. Healing them is what she's for, isn't it? Jin keeps Takaya sane, and she keeps them both whole just like this - a rush of heat to her fingers and a burst of gold, and a bruise easily the size of her palm is washed away. Before she can reach for the next, though, Takaya's hand closes over hers and he shakes his head.

"Save your strength."

"What do I have to save it for?" Healing isn't making her any less exhausted, true, but expending one last bit of energy before she gets some rest won't hurt her any. She pulls her hand out of Takaya's and reaches for the next bruise, only to have him stop her again.

Frustrated, she gives in, glaring up into Takaya's eyes in silent demand for an explanation. He smirks and lets of her hand, placing a hand on her shoulder instead and paying no heed to the way it makes her shiver. "Wouldn't you like a chance to pay those fools back for what they've done to you?"

For a moment, all she can do is stare. It's not that she hasn't thought about getting revenge. She's thought about it, dreamed about it, drawn it - the idea of making SEES pay for what they've done has kept her from losing herself completely, but dreams and reality are hardly the same thing. Revenge is something she gets for other people, _against_ other people, _normal_ people who haven't a hope of fighting back when pulled out of their coffins. The Dark Hour is every bit as much SEES' territory as it is Strega's, and they have strength in numbers... and Takaya expects her to succeed where he and Jin have failed?

"You... think I want to fight them?" she asks, ducking her head to look away from him.

"Surely you aren't afraid?" His grip tightens on her shoulder just enough to make her uncomfortable, just enough that she can't quite shrug it off. Something like a memory stirs as though awoken by those words, like she would know why she's so frightened if she could just _think_; it's the same feeling the Kirijo doctors managed to coax from her when they spoke of how ill the suppressants have made her. Not just fear. Something... more.

"Takaya, I -"

"The nine of them could not take you prisoner without breaking you in half, and you are afraid of them?" Chidori can hear the disbelief in his voice, and she doesn't know what to think. It's normal to be afraid of people who hold, and abuse, power over her... isn't it? Is it so unlike her to fear something like this? She doesn't know what is like her anymore. Too many things have changed in two months.

"They're _powerful_, Takaya!" So powerful that she knows what Takaya is saying isn't true; SEES very well could have defeated her had she summoned Medea, and kept her close. They took her Evoker out of convenience, not necessity. "Maybe they're a bunch of idiots, but they're _strong _idiots, and I... I can't..."

"_Chidori_." It's a warning, a sign that she's trying Takaya's patience. Right now she doesn't care, and won't be brushed aside so easily. Takaya _will_ hear her out!

"I won't!" Springing to her feet makes her head spin, but she manages to stay standing, glaring down at Takaya from her new-found height advantage. "You and Jin can risk your lives fighting them, but I won't - not for revenge, and not for you, either!"

That quiets Takaya for a moment, but then he gets to his feet as well, a smirk playing across his lips. "I've never seen such passion from you," he muses, stepping close to her. When she steps back, he moves with her, keeping her from getting enough space between them to feel the least bit safe. Her hands clench into fists. The discomfort of her hatchet's chain digging roughly into her skin barely registers. "Is it your Iori who has lit such a fire in your heart? Is he why you refuse to -"

"Shut up!"

Chidori doesn't _mean _to hit him. There's no conscious thought, no deliberation, just a step forward and her fists landing against Takaya's chest to punctuate her words. Chain links bite into her hands and scrape across Takaya's skin, drawing tiny dots of blood. It's the thud of impact and the shock of seeing blood-red smeared against pale skin that forces her mind to register what she's done; chain and hatchet clatter to the ground as her hands unclench, shaking, and in the same breath Takaya grabs her wrists and pulls her close against him. She's effectively immobolized before her exhausted mind has fully processed the chain of events.

Takaya is bleeding. Takaya is bleeding _because of her_. That's a line she's never crossed before, and that she's even _capable_ of it is a shock she can't quite wrap her head around.

Two months ago, she wouldn't have been.

"If not Iori, than _what_?" Takaya's voice is low, soft, velvet-smooth in her ear - not angry, like it should be. She knows his anger, and this isn't it. Still holding her, he steps back to sink down onto the sofa and take her with him; her chest pressed to his back, her wrists pinned at waist level by his hands, her legs on either side of his. He might not be angry, but he doesn't have any intention of letting her move, either. "What is it that's changed you? What has you so consumed by fear?"

"I don't - I'm not 'consumed' by anything!" Her voice is shaking just like her hands - and the rest of her - and she leans back against Takaya's chest not out of comfort, but out of submission to the weariness that makes her body feel heavy as lead. That more-than-fear returns to her and does, despite her words, seem to consume her. It strikes at her chest like a knife and twist in sharp and deep, and leaves behind something she can't ignore; a promise that if she fights SEES, they will kill her.

She _wants_ to ignore it with all her heart, but her mind speaks it in a voice she knows and trusts - a red-gold-warm voice that has never lied to her, not once, not since it spoke its name and gave its power to her all those years ago. Medea is hurtful, hateful, but never a liar. And she has more to say, but Chidori shuts her mind to it and refuses to listen. If she fights SEES tomorrow, she will die. That's hard enough to accept without having to acknowledge that there might be more. If her fate is somehow set in stone, whether or not she fights... no. There has to be a choice. She's _sick_ of having no control.

Takaya sighs, sliding his hands down her wrists to entwine his fingers with hers. "How ironic," he murmurs, "that their most foolish, fearless warrior would be the one to teach you fear." He laughs softly, absently stroking the side of her hand with his thumb until she tries to pull away. It feels too much like something Junpei might have done, had she given him the chance. "But you understand, don't you, that death is not something you can fight or outrun? It is impossible to prevent, and we do not even have the luxury of pretending that it will not soon be our turn."

She doesn't want to talk about this, not now and not _ever_ - the part of herself who was numb towards the thought of dying is not part of her anymore, no matter how much she wishes otherwise. She tries to yank her hands out of Takaya's and move away, but he holds her tight, and right now she utterly lacks the strength to put up any kind of fight. "I'm tired," she says, voice pitched a fearful touch too high. "I don't want to talk. I want to sleep!"

"Should you not fear sleep as well?" Takaya's voice is infuriatingly calm. "That is all death is, Chidori. An eternal, dreamless sleep. With our bodies as sick and pathetic as they are, we _long_ for that."

If Takaya were not holding her hands Chidori would try to cover her ears. Every word out of his mouth makes her feel sick, and she wants to run, scream, hide, anything to not have to think about what he's saying! Part of her feels literally ill with guilt at shutting out anything Takaya says, while another, louder part screams that there are better things to long for than endless - and terribly, terribly lonely - sleep. But words to explain any of this just won't come, and all she can manage is a shake of her head.

Something that Takaya seems to utterly disregard. "We are not the only ones to long for it," he continues, an intensity that Chidori rarely hears from him strong in his voice. It's impossible not to realize that he utterly believes in what he's saying. Even a perfect stranger could be convinced of that - but the devotion and charisma that Chidori has taken comfort in countless times fail to soothe her now. "Humanity has cried out for a savior, and she /will/ answer. Even if you turn your back on her, Nyx _will_ bring relief."

Relief is not what those words bring to Chidori, even though she's heard them countless times. Her mind's eye doesn't picture scores of people embracing Nyx and what she brings; all she can see is one person fighting a hopeless fight, frantic to keep just one minute more between himself and death. She is not that person, but she can see too much of her own fears in Junpei's.

And as heat prickles behind her eyes and she begins to cry, she feels no love, no sympathy, nothing but anger that he's left her like this. This wasn't supposed to happen. This _isn't what she wants_.

Cool hands leave hers and touch her face, smoothing back her hair. "Do you truly wish to be this way?" Takaya asks softly. "Do you enjoy what Iori has done to you? Do you enjoy being afraid?"

All she can do is shake her head and whisper a choked "no!". No, she doesn't enjoy this. She doesn't want to be like this. This burning, all-consuming fear - fear of death, fear of the future, even fear of _being afraid_ - was not what she expected to get when she first entertained the thought of speaking to Junpei Iori, and right now she would give _anything_ just to make it go away.

"Then let me help you." Takaya strokes her cheek, comforting her - and even such a simple thing is more than Junpei ever did. "Come rest with me. Regain your strength. We will show Iori he is not the only one with allies on his side."

"...all right."

What else is there to say?

Once her tears have slowed, once she can breathe without gasping between sobs, Takaya helps her to her feet and into the bedroom. Jin is already asleep, sprawled carelessly across his futon; Chidori counts herself lucky for such small miracles and manages to find enough of herself to turn up her nose at his snoring. She lets Takaya help her out of her clothes, for she doesn't think she could manage it herself with shaking hands and tear-blurred vision; she lets him take the ribbons from her hair and comb it out with his fingers. Soon she stops crying, too tired even for that.

Takaya finds her Evoker and presses it into her hands, knowing without having to ask that its presence is no small comfort after being deprived of it for so long. She clutches it to her chest as she curls up on the futon, and exhaustion pulls her into sleep before the cold metal has warmed from her body heat.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** Persona 3 doesn't belong to me. ATLUS just has a cooler sandbox than mine.

**Warnings:** Violence, angst, character death, SPOILERS

**Chiaroscuro - chapter four  
**

In the hospital, Chidori did little more than draw and sleep, with neither the opportunity nor the desire to do much else. Now that she has her freedom, she lacks simply the will. Though she wakes as Takaya stirs and rises from the futon she doesn't make the effort to so much as open her eyes. If she gets up she'll have to face Takaya and his beliefs, and there's more comfort to be found curled up in bed - in half-sleep and not having to think - than in his words.

This isn't right. This isn't the way it's supposed to be. Junpei has _made_ things this way.

Junpei has _ruined everything_, and Chidori wants nothing more than to hate him for it, but in her half-asleep daze she's too numb even for that. Nothing stirs in her heart - not fear, not love, not hate, not even Medea's fire. Just numbness and a promise that everything will be all right if she doesn't try to think. She pulls the blankets more tightly around her and drifts back into unconsciousness, surrounded by Takaya's presence in the smell of his bed and the sound of his voice from the other room.

When she wakes again the room is lit with late afternoon sun, and Takaya's hand is on her shoulder. "Chidori," he coaxes, and she knows that tone - indulgence with an undertone of something that will be annoyance if she doesn't acknowledge him soon - only too well. It's the way he's always woken her, on the rare occasions she isn't awake long before the guys.

It's nothing short of wrong for things to seem so normal when they're anything but. She shoves Takaya's hand away and curls herself tighter under the covers.

"Come now. You _know_ I'm not the one you should be angry with."

"Do I?" she asks, in a choked, dry-mouthed whisper muffled by the pillow. She doesn't know what she knows anymore. Everything is wrong, twisted and turned inside-out to the point where she wouldn't be at all surprised if Takaya told her that the sky was no longer blue. It hurts - and there is no one she can hurt in return.

No Shadows to make pay for daring to touch her. No flirtatious stranger on the train to _accidentally_ grind a spiked anklet against. Junpei isn't here, and Takaya... she can't hurt Takaya. She just can't. Even the thought of raising her hand against him again makes her feel sick.

Takaya reaches out and smooths her hair back from her face, his touch lingering softly against her temple. "Who has taken care of you all these years? Not your Iori." He sighs, and strokes his fingers down her face and neck until his hand rests on her shoulder again. "I will not tell you to forget him just yet. If you need... closure... then come with us tonight. Show him how badly he has hurt you."

"By hurting him."

"Does he not deserve it?"

With a soft sound of her own - something almost more like a whimper than a sigh - Chidori shrugs Takaya's hand away for the second time and rolls over to face him. "It doesn't matter," she whispers, staring at Takaya's knee instead of looking up to his face.

It's the first thing today she's sure of.

It doesn't matter to them - to _her_ - whether or not someone deserves something. Takaya taught her that - Takaya taught her a lot of things, but this is one thing she still isn't afraid to believe in. Bad things happen to good people, and good to bad. Trying to make things fair is futile.

"I'll go with you tonight," she says, glancing up into Takaya's eyes for long enough to see the approval gleaming there.

If hurting Junpei will make her feel better, than it doesn't matter whether or not he deserves it, just like it didn't matter whether or not _she_ deserved to be hurt. And if he does deserve it... well, then she's being more fair to him than the world has been to her, now isn't she?

And yet despite her resolve, there is still doubt.

"They're strong," she reminds Takaya as she does her makeup some time later, the brushes and tubes feeling almost as unfamiliar as the sickening uncertainty creeping around the edges of her mind. The members of SEES are strong, and she knows without knowing how that a fight with them _will_ end badly.

But she's justified her plans, and the logic holds against her tired, feeble attempts to poke holes in it. The members of SEES, she reminds herself, think themselves above such things as taking human life. They won't kill her. If it's fear that tells her otherwise, that, too, is something that can be blamed on Junpei; it's comforting to have someone to blame - something that stands up against her attempts to question it.

"They lack the intelligence to _use_ that strength. You have nothing to fear." Takaya reaches out to touch her cheek. In the mirror she watches him wipe a smudge of mascara away; her skin, always fair, today seems pale even compared to his. Is the sickly ghost of her reflection even _her_? It blinks when she blinks, reaches out towards her when she touches the mirror... but she doesn't recognize it. She's known for a long time that her body is dying, but only now can she see it in her face.

"But I'm afraid," she whispers to her reflection.

Neither it nor Takaya answers her.

Leaving the apartment with Takaya and Jin only strengthens that fear, right until it settles in a sickening lump in her stomach. The Dark Hour is close now, and so is their destination - the school that will become Tartarus in a few minutes' time. SEES is predictable, and she's certain that a confrontation with them is almost as close. It's too late to turn back. All she can do is steel herself for the fight to come.

Medea, at least, is happy; it's been so very long since she's been summoned, and the promise of a chance to do more than heal dying flowers excites her. The fire and adrenaline burning in Chidori's veins don't make _her_ any more anxious to fight, though, no matter what Medea wants; they only serve to make her jittery and steadily more ill at ease, until she's jumping at small noises and the brush of her own hair against her face. When Takaya touches her shoulder to stop her in front of the school gates, she smacks his hand away before she realizes what it is.

"The hell's _wrong_ with you, Chidori?" Jin, too, seems on edge, quicker than usual to jump down her throat - and Takaya doesn't seem interested in stepping between them just now. The only thing stopping Chidori from snapping right back is the way the world takes that moment to twist around them, going dark and sick and green as normal time slips away. The Dark Hour is too short to waste arguing with Jin... and the sight in front of her steals her voice, anyway.

It's certainly not the first time she's watched Gekkoukan High School transform into Tartarus, but this time feels different; perhaps because it's been so long, or because she's hardly in any state of mind to appreciate the twisted beauty of it, but instead of being awed she's almost disgusted by the tower that springs up before her eyes. Once, she was fascinated by how unnatural the tower is - how unlike anything she's ever seen before or since. Tonight, though, it only feels _wrong_. "I won't go inside," she says as they step through the gates, and she pretends not to notice Jin staring at her as though he can't believe what's coming out of her mouth.

It's all right that Jin's shocked, because she is, too. This isn't like her, but she doesn't know how to stop thinking like this - if she knew, if she could just throw aside everything she's learned from Junpei, she wouldn't need to fight him. But she can't. She just... can't.

_If you need... closure..._ Is that what to call what she's looking for? She doesn't know... _anything_. The only thing she feels sure of is that she doesn't know anything anymore, and if making Junpei hurt and bleed will help then she'll do it gladly. It will be easy. It will be simple. And she won't have to think.

She sinks down onto the steps and looks at Jin, who's staring at her like she's gone more insane than they all are already, and Takaya, who's staring at the tower as though they have all the time in the world...

"Tell me what to do." Because she's past wanting to think about this. She just wants to _act_.

Jin opens his mouth and Chidori's certain he has another insult on the tip of his tongue, but this time Takaya stops him with a light touch on the shoulder. "No, Jin. If she needs my guidance, I will give it." And though Chidori is more than capable of fighting her own battles - especially against Jin - right now she's grateful for Takaya's intervention. She only has the energy for one battle tonight.

"It will be all right," Takaya soothes, carefully lifting Chidori's skirt out of the way so he can sit beside her. He reaches into her pocket; a heartbeat before she can complain he pulls out her Evoker and presses it into her hands. "You remember the first step, do you not?"

Of course she remembers. Her fingers curl around the cool metal the way they have a thousand times before - but somewhere between her lap and her chin her hands freeze, the gesture cut short by a spike of fear she can't explain. Maybe it's the sickly moonlight glinting off the steel that makes the Evoker look more sinister, or maybe this different way of seeing is another "gift" Junpei has left her... whatever the reason, she sees not a harmless focus for her power, but a gun - real and _dangerous_ - and she can't keep her hands from shaking.

Were it truly capable of harm her Evoker would be no match for Takaya's revolver, the only real basis of comparison she has, but she's not so ignorant as to think that there's any such thing as a harmless bullet to the brain. Instead of shattered glass and inhibitions she hears a true gunshot through the frantic pounding of her heartbeat in her ears, and her trembling hands make to drop the Evoker to her lap where it can't hurt her, can't _kill_ her -

Steadier hands close around hers and hold them tight, and Takaya is so close that she can feel the heat of his breath against her cheek. "Surely you've not forgotten how to use this?" he whispers, tugging her hands upward until the Evoker is pressed tight against her chin. "Pull the trigger, little bird. Show Iori that you will not be caged."

It might be the pressure of his hands that makes her finger twitch against the trigger. It might not; Chidori isn't sure. Either way, the part of her mind that belongs to Medea shatters into a million tiny pieces. There's no blood. No bullet. No pain. "Good girl," Takaya whispers in her ear, but she barely notices, scrambling to her feet to stand at Medea's side and bask in the fiery heat of her presence.

Even if her heart can't decide who her human allies are, she is _certain_ that Medea is on her side. (For as long as she takes her pills, at least, but that doesn't matter, because that's the Kirijo Group's fault and Medea doesn't hate _her_ - but she tries not to dwell on that, if she can help it.) One more piece of precious certainty in a decidedly uncertain world. Chidori reaches up to take hold of Medea's wrist, utterly without fear of the knife held dangerously close to her fingers. "Hello again," she whispers, and Medea's return greeting fills her mind with shades of gold contentment and blood-red passion. Not words - never words - but beautiful all the same.

"Now call out to them," Takaya says from behind her. "Bring them to us - or to you, rather. Jin and I shall watch from the shadows."

She'll need to hide them, then - easy enough; all it takes is a little coaxing, urging Medea to cloak the guys in darkness while leaving her presence unobscured. As Takaya and Jin retreat into Tartarus she closes her eyes, and the entire city floats in the darkness behind her eyelids. Each coffin is a faint spark of light. Each person resistant to Transmogrification appears as a glittering star. She reaches out towards the biggest and brightest and breaks it apart, burning down the walls that would try and keep her out of the mind it represents.

The terrified shriek that echos inside her head only makes her laugh. _**Long time no see,**_ she "says".

It doesn't matter _who's_ head she's in, only that it belongs to a member of SEES, and she's fairly sure of _that_. Information she doesn't particularly care to know buzzes in her ears, thanks to Medea; she tunes it out and focuses on the mind she's touched. It's pushing hard against her, struggling to rebuild the walls and shove her out. A short message is all she has time for.

_**I can't stand the sight of you all anymore... so, I've decided to do something about it. Come to me...**_

There. Now to let the hysterical idiot she spoke through figure out where she is, so they can all come rushing like the mindless _sheep_ they are. They don't have to know that she couldn't care less about most of them, not anymore. As long as Junpei comes... but all she can do is wait and see.

"He will come," she tells Medea (who, truth be told, is far more interested in scanning for SEES than listening to her mistress's ramblings). "Won't he? He claims to love me, after all." She laughs, sharp and bitter, at the stupidity of it. She doesn't need _love_. Takaya doesn't love her, or she him, and she's managed to survive well enough all these years in his care without once wishing for something more. Until, at least, Junpei and his... his stupid goatee and stupid jokes and stupid, stupid _self_ tricked her into thinking she was missing something important.

"I don't love him. I hate him. I _hate_ him..." Medea certainly approves of that, but no matter how many times Chidori says it, out loud or in her head, the words fail to ring entirely true. "You believe me, don't you? You know I can't stand him anymore. I just want him to _die_ and leave me alone -"

She has to want that. He deserves much worse, even (if there is a thing worse than death for someone who fears it so much), for what he's done to her and what he's helped do as part of SEES... She could care less about Takaya's wish, but not _much_ less. It isn't because of Takaya that she thinks SEES are far more cruel than she is even capable of. They would destroy something millions long for just because they can't wrap their pathetic minds around why. They are selfish and cruel and - and everything they are, Junpei is _worse_. Yes, death is much too kind for him.

"Isn't it? _Isn't it_, Medea?"

Medea only lifts her dagger to her lips, demanding silence even as she vanishes without a trace. Someone is coming. Anticipation - or is it fear? Hate? Why doesn't she even know herself anymore? - swells so quickly that Chidori thinks she would be sick were there anything in her stomach. She clutches her hatchet's chain so tightly it bites into her palms, and waits.

"Chidori!" Somehow, Junpei manages to sound even worse than she feels, and she can taste bile in the back of her throat. The mere sight of him nearly makes her throw up - and that is _his fault_ - yet he still thinks he has a right to feel hurt? _Disgusting_. "What's going on? Why are you doing this?"

Junpei looks more pathetic than ever. Yet she can't manage to gloat or taunt him, or say as much as a single word. She can only stare, and with every wasted moment her determination fades. Maybe she shouldn't fight. Maybe they can talk, and figure out what went wrong, and - why is she even _considering_ that? If someone hurts you you hurt them back, and worse, so they'll never do it again. Talking doesn't solve anything. Talking _never_ solves anything!

"It doesn't make any sense!" She would laugh at that, if she didn't feel so breathless and sick. Is he that blind? Can't he see that he's played a role in this? Or has he come to think that she's crazy, just like his teammates surely have? "I mean, I know I'm not that smart, and I've done a lot of stupid stuff... but we shouldn't be fighting like this!"

He steps towards her and she shrinks back, and now, at least, she _knows_ that what she feels is anger. Junpei has no right to be close to her, and if he doesn't get that she'll _make_ him get it -

"Look out!" a girl's voice shrieks from nearby, just as Chidori loses the last brittle shards of her patience and throws her hatchet at Junpei with all the force she can muster.

It's a miss, but a very close one. She tisks and yanks her hatchet back as the other members of SEES come running up behind Junpei, and annoyance manages to win out over the countless other feelings struggling for dominance. Now she'll have to fight _them_ instead of her real target. They aren't the kind of people to leave their friends to the wolves, no matter how smart it would be.

Then again, _her_ teammates aren't that kind of people either. Are they?

"I don't belong here," she says, with little hope that the idiots assembled in front of her will hear or understand. She doesn't belong in SEES' company, and _certainly_ not Junpei's; she doesn't belong in front of Tartarus, or the school it will become when time starts again. She doesn't even... belong anywhere, anymore, does she? If she believed in such things as miracles, she would think it one that she's still alive.

Well. If the sickening feeling in the pit of her stomach is right, that, at least, will soon cease to be a problem.

She fights mostly on autopilot. Her Evoker no longer feels quite so deadly in her hands, and she summons Medea again and again, showering her enemies in fire and darkness with little regard for who, exactly, she's attacking. Only when she seeks out a target to hit with her hatchet does she catch little glimpses of her foes; Arisato's headphones, Takeba's bow, and the inhumanly bright eyes of the equally inhuman Aigis.

"Takaya was right," she breathes, "you're a nuisance," and even she isn't sure if she means Junpei or his teammates.

It's not a fair fight by any definition of the words. Four against one, and they're _strong_ - or maybe she's just weak, rendered all but useless by her too-long imprisonment. Medea's fire engulfs Arisato without touching him. Aigis effortlessly dodges her hatchet. No matter how hard she tries, none of them fall.

Sanada, of all people, is the one to deal the final blow; it knocks the wind from her lungs and shoves her to the ground, where even sitting up takes almost more strength than she can muster. "Hitting girls?" she gasps out as soon as she has the breath to speak. "What would your - your _precious_ Shinji think?"

The look of pure agony that twists Sanada's face brings her neither joy nor remorse, and it fails even to serve its purpose - Sanada doesn't hit her again. None of them do. They've ruined her life and beaten her to the ground on top of that, and yet they refuse to put an end to things when she is lying helpless at their feet - what kind of "justice" allows for that? What kind of "heroes" are they?

"Chidori!"

Junpei shoves his teammates aside to kneel beside her, reaching for her hand. Their fingers brush as she jerks away. "Don't touch me," she spits out. Not unless he wants to kill her. Isn't that what's supposed to happen? She's lost. She's failed. She's entirely at their mercy, and they aren't doing a thing to take advantage of it; they may be strong, but their weaknesses are glaringly obvious. Compassion is not a trait a so-called "execution squad" needs.

"Chidori, please..." The tone of Junpei's voice tears at something deep in Chidori's chest, and for a moment she thinks she really will throw up. "Tell me why you're doing this."

She wants to ignore his pleas. She wants to laugh in his face.

Somehow she can't manage to do either.

"What I fear most isn't death." Or at least it wasn't, for a very long time. Now she isn't so sure. "What I fear most is... attachment. Once I become attached to something, I fear that I will lose it. That's why we only live for the moment..." Why she does, anyway. Takaya undoubtedly has his own reasons, for he isn't so emotional, so weak. So useless.

Everyone is silent. She swallows down the nausea and keeps going, because she knows - doesn't know why, just _knows_ - this is important. "But you... you brought me pain. Pain that I didn't want. Pain that I never asked for..."

He doesn't understand. It's written all over his face even before he croaks out a pathetic "huh?" But... explaining it almost seems to help. Maybe getting her thoughts in order isn't such a bad thing.

"When I'm with you, Junpei, I fear _everything_. I fear loss, I fear death... I fear that my time with you will end..." Not only when she's with him, either. Shoving him away only made things worse. Does that mean that she should take him back? He'd _have_ her back - she has no doubt of that. Junpei is unlike anyone she's ever met, and when it comes to her, she doesn't think there is any limit to his ability to forgive. "That's why... I..."

It would be so easy to ask him to forgive her, but even the thought of it steals her words away. Yet another thing to fear - rejection.

"I'm sensing..." It's the girl from earlier, with the obnoxious voice and a name Chidori doesn't care to remember. She must be the one with a Persona like Medea, because everyone jumps to attention at her words, instantly ready for another fight. Everyone, that is, but Junpei, who barely glances at the girl before looking to Chidori again.

Chidori lacks the strength to turn around, but by watching SEES' reactions she can make a very good guess as to who the girl sensed. Medea must have gotten distracted during the fight, or after, and failed to keep Takaya and Jin concealed within Tartarus...

The resulting argument is not something she cares to listen to. SEES have _never_ been terribly interesting in their dealings with Strega, and she doubts they meant to start now... and she's too tired to follow a conversation very far anyway. The fight took what little strength the hospital hadn't already stolen. All she's really capable of is sitting and listening, picking out different voices but not individual words. Sanada yelling. Takaya speaking her name - but she knows that she's failed him, and anything else he might have to say is inconsequential. Junpei...

And then something that isn't a voice, but rather an instantly familiar sound; a single gunshot and the ringing it leaves in her ears. Blood starts to drip to the concrete, a few drops splattering onto her skirt. Takaya shot... _Junpei_? He must have, because it's Junpei crumpling to the ground beside her, clutching his stomach.

"Junpei..." she whispers, struggling to comprehend what just happened - why would Takaya shoot someone who wasn't a threat, or a target? _Why_? - but the sound is lost under that SEES girl's horrified scream.

"_Chidori_," Takaya simpers, with a voice so sticky-sweet it's nauseating, once there is quiet. "I tried to be lenient with you, but you clearly hold no gratitude for my generosity. Now that your _dear_ Iori is dead, perhaps you will see reason - " She has no interest in hearing anything more, though for a moment she stares, wide-eyed, at the man standing at the top of the steps. He looks the same as ever; sounds the same.

But this is not the Takaya she knows.

For a moment she catches Jin's eye, and she thinks he sees it to, for his eyes are wide behind his glasses. Then she turns away - shuts them out, before she really does throw up. She thinks that she ought to feel betrayed. But her mind is still, as though she lacks the energy to hate.

It's nothing more than habit that makes her reach for Junpei, unafraid of dirtying her hands with the blood pooled around him. The gaping hole in his stomach is far more than she's ever tried to heal before, but Junpei's eyes blink open, feebly, and lock onto hers when she touches him, and as she watches the last faint spark of life leave him she _knows_ that she must try. She was meant to die here, wasn't she? Yet she's still alive, somehow. What is there to lose?

"What are you -" a voice starts to demand, cold and mechanical.

"It's all right, Aigis," a boy's voice interrupts. There is no argument.

Healing is not always pleasant, and by the effort it takes to force life back into Junpei's still body Chidori guesses this will be not far short of hellish for both of them. When she closes her eyes Junpei's mind is little more than a candle's flickering flame, but it's _there_ - and it strengthens even as her own strength trickles out through her fingers.

She slips inside it, and draws him a picture with her thoughts.

The world fades out around her, and she fades with it, though she also remains kneeling on the cold concrete, wrist deep in blood and things best left unmentioned. It's a peculiar feeling, being in two places at once. Outside, she continues to throw everything she has into healing, but inside Junpei's mind she can sit in a chair that doesn't quite exist (even as pebbles and the chain of her hatchet dig into her knees) and catch her breath.

"I'm so happy you're awake," she whispers when, finally, life washes over Junpei's face. For a moment he lies sill and silent - but his mouth works at forming words, and his eyes lock on to hers, and he's _alive_. She's truly glad of that. Maybe fighting left her too tired to loathe him with all her heart and soul... or maybe Takaya was right. Maybe she needed something as sudden and final as a bullet to the stomach to shook her out of self-pity and into reason.

Junpei sits up, rubbing at his eyes. "Chidori? Huh...?" The exaggerated confusion on his face is almost comical. "I... I thought I was..." He falls silent when she reaches out and takes his hand, clasping it tightly in both of hers (while her real hands press hard on his stomach, willing parts she can't name to mend).

"I was wrong." The words come easily. She's slipping away; it's only fair, only right, that she take these last few moments to explain everything. Besides, saying it aloud makes it easier to sort it out in her head. "I was scared... and I blamed you for my heartache. I never felt that way before I met you, Junpei. And for the first time in my life, I realized what I wanted."

He still looks confused, but she can't blame him. She's playing tricks with his mind, after all - letting him think he's here, where it's warm and safe and painless (so he doesn't realize that she's reaching _inside_ of him and burning bits of metal out of his intestines). It can't be terribly conductive to thinking straight. "And what is that?"

"I..." She hesitates, pressing her tongue up against her teeth so the words can't escape before she's ready. She thinks they might, otherwise. "I want to be with you, Junpei. Forever," and she says the last word sadly, because she knows exactly how it will come true. "Forever" might be a long time, but it's also only the next five minutes, until the fear and determination and sheer force of will give out and there's nothing left of her.

"I - um." Junpei squeezes her hand. It's a nice gesture, even if she can't really feel it. "I... I want to be with you, too."

"But it could never last." Indulging in a little wistful sigh, she grabs his other hand. It probably would have been better had she never gotten involved with him. She's always known - Medea has always known that death keeps a close eye on her, and if she hadn't let herself be blinded to that... but even after all the fear, all the confusion, her only true regret is that she's brought Junpei pain. "That's why," she muses, "this is how it should be... You can't die here, Junpei."

"...die?"

As though there's magic in that single word, the hospital facade wavers and falls, and they're back to sitting on the pavement in the gloomy green darkness. Medea crouches by her mistress, her hands over Chidori's as her power finishes healing the fatal wound. Junpei's friends are talking, but their voices blend together into a single muddled sound, and Chidori only has eyes and ears for Junpei.

"It worked..." she whispers as Medea fades away. Junpei is sitting up, breathing, _living_, and it doesn't matter one bit that she is more exhausted than she's ever been in her life. She collapses into Junpei's lap, smiling as he puts his arms around her and holds her tight. "I can hear the life pulsing through you..."

Junpei doesn't seem terribly pleased - in fact, as she looks up at him through half-closed eyes, she can see his face twist into something miserable and pained. "I'll protect you, Junpei," she forces herself to say, though just moving her lips is an almost impossible effort. There has to be something she can say to ease that pain... "Always."

"I'll protect you too!" He grabs her hand and presses it to his cheek, and her whole world seems to shrink down to the touch of skin on skin - the dampness of his tears against her fingers. She closes her eyes and soaks in that touch. "Please... don't go!"

"It feels so nice to be with you..." Isn't this what people dream of - dying in their loved one's arms? There are... worse things, surely. Worse things than knowing that she is loved, even if she doesn't, perhaps, deserve it... yes, it's... nice. Warm, too, with Medea's fire joining Junpei's own...

Faintly, as though from very far away, she hears Junpei saying her name.

"Thank you... Jun... pei..." She can't her her own voice - isn't sure whether Junpei _can_. But as sleep presses more heavily on her mind than it ever has, she tries to whisper one last thing -

"I love you..."


End file.
